Welcome to Toonami
by Swashbucklist
Summary: Minor difficulties arise for TOM as he adapts to life aboard the Absolution.


Disclaimer: I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Toonami is copyright Cartoon Network. I own nothing except the idea for the story.

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**Welcome to Toonami

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**

"Okay, here we go ..." TOM leaned forward, focused intently on the drama unfolding on one of the six screens that dominated the center of the _Absolution_'s bridge. His blue optic visor reflected ships, laser-fire, and constant light and movement. His facade of intensity vanished suddenly, and he sat back up. "Dude, chill out." He said this in response to the foul string of words that was pouring in from the video game afficionado he was playing against. After a second, he resumed tapping away at his game controller.

The screen TOM's game was displayed upon was part of six holographic windows, all hovering in a standing hexagon over a wide, circular console. A blue computer-generated female head appeared on one of the six screens.

"Tom, there's a spot of maintenance to be done on level MA-33," Sara announced.

"It won't hurt to wait, will it?" TOM asked, returning his attention to the pixilated battlefield. "If I don't get these pylons set up, the next wave of attackers is gonna compromise my base." He paused while the opposing player delivered another set of impolite comments, then answered, "Let me tell ya something: you're taking it way too seriously. It's just a game, alright?"

"It can't wait, TOM," Sara replied to the part of the conversation she was included in. "It needs to be done fairly soon, in fact."

"Okee-doke, on my way there," TOM muttered. "That kid was driving me nuts anyway." He shut down the game and tossed his controller aside. Since his short legs had no knee joints and his chair was higher off the ground than his waist, he had to hop onto and off of it every time he moved. He pushed himself over the edge of the seat and departed from the bridge. The elevator pod took him to the appropriate level on his gargantuan ship, and he walked the rest of the way to the section Sara had designated. "Okay, what needs done?" he asked, entering the room. It was dominated by a row of ribbed energy converters that radiated an amber-colored light.

"Shield converters are slightly faulty," Sara told him. "Hook the surge cable up to a reactor outlet. That'll redirect the power so you don't get blasted to pieces."

"Safety first," TOM piped as he followed her instructions. Once done, he removed a plate near the base of the converters that allowed him access to their inner works. "Whoa, this is a lot more complicated than I thought it would look."

"I'll send a Clyde down with some schematics that should help," Sara offered.

"'Preciate it," said TOM, giving the advanced mechanics and circuitry a once-over. He realized he would have to take a chunk out of this game-playing time to familiarize himself with more systems onboard the _Absolution._

The aforementioned Clyde soon puttered into the room and zipped over to TOM. There was a series of Clyde models, and TOM had used the Clyde 49's as a blueprint to produce the Clyde50's, which were currently helping him out on the ship. They were basically floating metal eyeballs, each with three lenses that provided various imaging capabilities from behind a single glass shield.

"Show me what's what," TOM said. The Clyde50 projected a holographic plane that illustrated the circuitry he was working with. A component in the center of the maze was blinking. "Ah, so that's the problem. I'll just snip that monkey outta there." From the mini-tool rack attached to the Clyde, TOM selected a cutting instrument, switched it on, and carefully inserted it. As the electric-blue cutting arc made contact, there was a loud zap and the tool flew out of his hand.

"What the ...? Hey, are you sure you marked that right?" The Clyde produced the image again, but this time highlighted multiple faulty components. "No way, there can't be that many bugs in here." Picking up the cutter again, he said, "Hey Sara, could you send another Clyde down here to confer with this one? I think it's having some issues."

"Very well. It's on its way."

TOM lowered the fizzing tool over one of the newly highlighted components. "If you're wrong again, so help me—" He sliced in again, and this time all the lights on a nearby console went out. "You have gotta be kidding me!" TOM shouted, kicking the bulkhead. He pointed at the Clyde. "Repair bay. Now." The Clyde glanced back and forth helplessly. "You know where it is." It chirped and drifted to the door, which opened just as the replacement Clyde floated in.

TOM shook his head as the relief Clyde swerved to avoid the exiting one. He took another look at the machine innards he was supposed to be repairing, but snapped his head back up at the sound of an electrified squeal. The second Clyde had somehow crashed into the nearest shield converter, frying itself on contact, then ricocheted into the adjacent converter, triggering massive dual power feedbacks from the two.

The wave of kinetic force lifted TOM off his feet and slammed him into the wall. He slid back down to the floor as both converters were instantly severed from the network by emergency systems. They went dark while the rest continued feeding off the ship's main power supply.

"Tom, are you alright?"

With smoke wafting up from his big hands and giant round head, TOM muttered in response, "Something ... Sara ... is wrong with these Clydes."

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Later, TOM sent a hailing frequency to the company he'd spoken to a few days earlier. He stood in the communications room, which included a disc-shaped platform that was configured with a few small consoles and an array of much larger arm-mounted screens. There were vertical tension struts on either side of the disc and the short walkway that connected it to the doors.

A receptionist quickly responded. The face that appeared at the other end of the comm channel resembled the mechanical dolls from an action-fantasy movie TOM recalled, with large, curious, goggle-like eyes and a small, harmless-looking mouth. The way he moved was also furtive and cautious, but instantly likeable. "Advanced Robotics," the automaton receptionist greeted.

"Hey! This is TOM, of the _Absolution_, L-Class Deep Space Explorer. I recently constructed a few droids for myself using parts from your company, and they're acting a little screwy. I disassembled one, and the problem definitely seems to be with some of the parts they were built from."

"The parts, huh?" The automaton turned away slightly to glance over some information on another screen. "How long ago was this?"

"About a week," said TOM.

"Yes, here're your order details. Well, first thing's first: there's no way of verifying there was anything wrong with the parts that were sold to you."

"So you're saying this is my fault?" TOM asked as two Clydes collided and spiraled away from one another.

"I'm saying this sort of thing will happen no matter who you order from."

"Your only competitors are either too expensive or don't have the stuff I want."

"That's why we'll do everything on our end to fix this. It's impossible to be certain the order was faulty prior to shipment, so we'll have to send you new ones at the same price. If you have a list of the parts that don't have anything wrong with them, we can take them off this order and charge you less. That's all we can do, I'm sorry."

"That'll be fine. I'll send you the list later." TOM shut down the channel.

"He didn't believe me when I said the parts arrived that way," he complained to Sara. He turned to face a Clyde that was trying to extend one of its telephoto lenses to its fullest reach, but kept hitting the inside of the glass plate. "Y'know, most people are a lot more trustworthy than that. If Advanced Robotics had some more on-par competition, they would've been obligated to give me the benefit of the doubt."

"That's how people are, Tom," Sara responded reasonably. "Trustworthiness doesn't come without the right kind influence, and not everyone _gets_ the right kind."

Something about her words spurred an idea in TOM's mind. He began to think out loud. "Hmm, influence ... Like the kind a time slot on a television network can have?"

"Giant robots and people bludgeoning each other probably isn't the kind of ethical guidance you're thinking of," Sara said with a roll of her artificial eyes.

TOM waved her off. "'Ethical guidance?' _Pfft_, I'm not lookin' to preach to anyone, Sara. Just wanna drop a little advice for our viewers to munch on, and only if they care for it. Just like Moltar did." He said thoughtfully, "I'd present it with sort of a take-it-or-leave-it attitude. Like a fortune cookie."

"Tom, the Fortune Cookie Robot," Sara murmured sarcastically. "Surely this has nothing to do with getting a discount from Advanced Robotics in any way."

"Of course not. But there's nothing wrong with spreading a few helpful words of wisdom. Hey, how much creative license am I getting from the network?"

"Enough to insert a few short segments, I suppose."

"Then insert a few short segments I suppose we will," TOM announced as a Clyde exploded somewhere behind him.

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"Are we all set, Sara?" TOM asked from his seat on the bridge.

"All competent Clydes functioning, all incompetent Clydes deactivated and stored," she responded. "Whenever you're ready, Tom."

"Okay, great." He gestured to one of the two Clydes who were acting as independent camera units. "Lights ... Clydes ... action!" Clydecam 06942 gave a beep, and TOM started talking.

"We've all been angry before," he opened. "Some of us let it go ... some don't."

On the rotating holographic display, a series of specially selected clips flashed by. They all featured characters from the anime he was responsible for broadcasting as they demonstrated the points of his speech.

"There's nothing wrong with being angry, it's all in how you deal with it. Anger can be a motivational tool. _Rage_ can hold you back." Snippets of characters from one of his favorite programs now began cropping up on the screens. "Vegeta is a perfect example of a rage-aholic. He can't let go, so he saves his anger for a long time. Piccolo (on the other hand) deals with his emotions. It lets him focus; that's what makes him so dangerous. The trick is not to let your anger fester. Ya have to turn it into something positive. Otherwise you'll never learn from your mistakes and be angry forever."

He tapped a button on the arm of his chair for some closing panache. "Later."

The Clyde chirped and gave sort of nod, though it looked more like a nervous twitch, and the segment ended.

"So, what'd you think?" TOM asked. "Time well-spent?"

"No way to tell until it gets mentioned in feedback from the viewers," Sara replied. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah, if it makes some people feel a little better about themselves."

"Good. Oh, and one more thing," she added.

"Whatsup?"

"I took some time to examine the Clydes myself. It looks like some of the pieces you used weren't designed to fit together. Advanced Robotics sent you all the right components, they were just different versions from the ones you needed. You could have sent them back to be replaced by the right ones."

"Yeah, I kinda remember some pieces being difficult," TOM mused. "So I just kept jamming them in until they all fit. Why, d'you think that's what caused the malfunctions?"

Following a pause, Sara sighed and shook her holographic head. "You can get back to your video game now."

"I was just about to." With the day's activity behind them, the Clydes dispersed to find something to occupy their small mechanical brains, Sara delved back in to the ship's systems to run some hourly scans, and TOM scooped up his game controller to return to the fictitious world of _Starcraft._

As the _Absolution_ continued its journey through a universe of actual stars, an angry banter marked TOM's return to the realm of fake ones. He sighed and shook his head. "Dude, I cut our game short 'cause I had work to do. Chill out." As an afterthought, he added. "Oh, and, uh, don't miss Toonami this week."

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Post Script: This fic is as a conglomeration of some things I wanted to do with my Toonami stories. I wanted to show TOM adjusting a little to life on the _Absolution_, and also write some Toonamiverse fiction in which the main focus isn't the action. It also felt good to spend just a little more time with our short, bubble-headed TOM before the events that take place in "The Intruder." *sigh* Poor, poor TOM ... You can find the rest of his speeches (Brains Vs. Brawn, Courage, Experience, Individuality) on Youtube or toonamiarsenal dot com. Lastly, I apologize for the inconsistencies with the gameplay options that were available back when _Starcraft_ was new. *flashes artistic license* They were necessary.

Thanks for checking out my second Toonami fanfiction. I hope you enjoyed it. Remember, the revolution has been televised.


End file.
